


Kill twins

by huntingosprey



Series: Crouching motorbike, hidden Datsun [4]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers Generation One
Genre: i shouldn't write while high on coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntingosprey/pseuds/huntingosprey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annoying a ninja is never healthy, especially when said ninja has high level tactical help- perhaps someone should tell the twins this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Volume 1

“Those wing blades are new.” The ninja said, careful not to move his head too much in case he accidentally slit his throat on the razor sharp blade wedged under his chin.

“Actually, they’re old things pulled out of storage.” The Datsun replied, “After our last weapons fight I realised just how out of practise I was using this sort of thing, with no one approaching my level to spar with, I’ve got lazy with the advanced techniques.”

“Not surprising, I have the same issues.” the ninja sighed “We really should find a more controllable way of meeting, how else can we keep each others skills up?”

“Agreed, being blown through the dimensions is such a random way of finding a sparing partner,” the Datsun murmured, “do you yield by the way, this position is as uncomfortable as it looks.”

“I yield, although I still maintain that those wings shouldn’t be able to support you like that.” The ninja said, massaging his throat as the other mech rolled away “What time did you say they would be back from patrol?”

“An hour after sunrise.” the Datsun said, his optics scanning the horizon “Providing they don’t break the speed limit, again.”

“Prime comes on duty?” The gold and black mech asked, stretching lazily.

“At 11:00. Relax, I’ve got everything covered.” The black and white told him, grinning.

“After all they’ve put me through can you blame me for wanting to make sure?” The motorbike asked sharply.

“Trust me,” the police car reassured him “I’ve suffered with these two far longer than you have, I’m not about to blow what looks like my one chance of getting even, on their terms, that’s ever going to come my way.”

The ninja nodded sharply and rolled up into a meditation pose, off lining his optics. The Datsun, having completed his scan, copied him and the desert returned to its pre-dawn silence.

\---

All activity and conversation came to an abrupt halt as the tactician came in. Mouths dropped open in shock and optic ridges ascended to the ceiling as the black and white clung to the doorframe in a desperate bid to stay upright. Prowler’s lights and sirens were blaring and the mech himself was laughing hysterically. He finally staggered over to the nearest table and collapsed into a chair, resting his head on one arm and thumping the table with the other hand.

After two breems of waiting for the universe to end, Ratchet walked warily over and asked, “What’s happened?”

Prowler looked up and Ratchet could see rivers of coolant and lubricant streaming down his face from his optics. 

Cutting his sirens, the black and white gasped out between the irregular hitching of his intakes “Ninja, Twins, pay back.” Before he lost control and started to laugh again.

Ratchet stared at the usually imperturbable 2IC, and was suddenly aware that the other chair at the table was full of the other Prowl, who was looking bemusedly at the still shaking Datsun and picking red and yellow paint flecks off his hands and arms.

The black and gold motorbike had dropped out of the air in front of the Ark two weeks ago. He’d initially treated the mechs who’d gathered around him as dangerous impostors until Jazz had shown up and vouched for them. The twins had taken one look at both Prowls and made the newcomer the target of every prank and trick they could, that Prowl had done nothing about it had led to speculation that the two of them didn’t get on. Speculation fuelled further by the fact that shortly after the first prank, they’d started showing up with dents and scrapes, for which they offered no explanation. 

“It wasn’t that amusing.” The motorbike said dryly as he dropped a few more paint flakes onto the table.

The Datsun finally managed to silence his lights and sirens and peeled his head off his arm and waved an unsteady finger at the motorbike “You have to see it from my tyres.”

A thoughtful frown crossed the motorbike’s face as he tilted he head to one side “Yes, well, put like that.”

“What have you done?” Ratchet demanded, looming over both mechs as much as he could.

A chilling smile crossed the thin grey face and a shaking Datsun’s hand extended across the table, holding a block in the shape of the Autobot Faction symbol.

“Revenge,” The black and gold whispered “is a dish best served cold.”

A crowd swiftly gathered around the table, demanding and pleading that the two mechs confess what they’d done.

“If you don’t speak up,” Red finally told them “I’ll just have to take you into custody on suspicion of murder, seeing as no one’s been able to raise the twins. And don’t go giving me that spiel about how you out rank me either.”

“I don’t.” the Datsun replied calmly “In fact, at this precise point in time, even Huffer out ranks me.”

With that statement the former 2IC managed to startle the Ark into silence for the second time that day.

“What? How? _Why?_ ” Ironhide stuttered. 

“Never mind why,” Prime spoke from the door way “what I want to know is how you got them up there.”

A smirk settled over Prowl’s face and he said “I have a jet pack.” as if it were the most obvious thing in the multiverse.

“You do have a plan for getting them down, don’t you?” Prime enquired.

Both Prowls wore identical enigmatic smiles, “Maybe.” The black and white allowed.

“And since you tendered your resignation last night, I can’t order you to do anything about it, can I?” Prime guessed.

Prowler’s smile got even wider and became feral.

“He what?” Jazz spluttered, staring first at Prime and then at Prowler.

“He tendered his resignation.” Prime repeated.

“Why?” Hound asked from the back of the crowd.

“Because, as their superior officer, I’m not allowed to lay a finger on them outside of training.” Prowler sighed regretfully, “Otherwise I’d have done something like this voorns ago.”

“What have you done?” Wheeljack demanded.


	2. Volume 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So just what did Prowl and Prowler do to the twins and what will they do next to drive the lesson home

The desert was cold in the pre dawn as the twins roared towards the Ark. Their patrol had been uneventful and they were looking forward to hot energon, a long recharge and implementing their latest torment the ninja plan. As they rounded a rock pillar they rolled gently to a stop, sat all alone in the desert was their target, completely oblivious to their approach. 

“How about a round of meditation busting?” Sideswipe enquired as they both transformed.

Sunstreaker wordlessly began stalking towards the ninja anticipation gleaming in his optics.

\---

The twins were bored, Prowl was stubbornly refusing to allow anything they said to rattle him from his meditation and they were about to head for the ark when the ninja’s optics snapped on. Prowl leapt from the ground staring at the horizon his whole body language screaming danger and the twins found themselves automatically scanning the horizon looking for what ever had spooked the mech so much. 

Framed between two rock pillars was a cloud of dust the span of Sideswipes hand, steadily drawing nearer to them as the watched, they caught the telltale glint of sun on windows betraying the car hidden within the cloud. Scanning the cloud, the twins found their sensors reporting confusing signs. There was maybe, sort of a life form in the cloud and it might or might not be Cybertronian, the spike of energy that shorted out their scanners and comms was however certainly hostile. 

“I don’t know him, but that’s not a friendly gesture!” Sunstreaker growled.

Sideswipe swapped in his pile drivers and snarled “He’s so gonna regret messing with us.”

The twins surged forward to meet this threat head on when the ninja’s hands snapped out and caught each one by an arm; they spun to face him furious only to stop cold by the naked fear scrawled across it.

“No,” Prowl whispered in a harsh voice “brute strength is of no use here. This comes from my world, the Devourer we call it. A creature of living flesh that takes our outward form and feeds on our sparks, utterly consuming them denying us rest in the matrix.” He shuddered “Worse it will take the bodies of the dead and use them against the living, an eternity of slavery to its will.”

The twins shared a horrified glance; the prospect of becoming one of the un-dead was not appealing. The cloud was close enough that the form of a low-slung sports car could be discerned through the dust.

“A wooden car?” Sideswipe asked not believing his optics.

“A flesh creature bolt brain.” Sunstreaker reminded his twin “so how do we kill it?”

Prowl gave a mirthless laugh “No one knows, its attacks have left whole citadels full of the walking dead. Speed is your only defence, if it gets you in its grip your dead.”

“And we’re standing here talking why?” Sideswipe asked folding down into his alt mode, engine revving.

The other two transformed and the three of them tore across the open desert as fast as they could, almost impossible the wooden car kept hot on their tails gaining on them slowly.

“We can’t shake it!” Sunstreaker called desperately after an hours worth of flat out racing.

Prowl skidded to a halt transformed and ran back towards the oncoming car, which exploded in a flurry of sliding panels revealing a humanoid form not much taller than Prowl. Coal black optics glinted in the morning light, a row of sharp wooden teeth jutted down from the roof of its mouth, behind it swept two jagged edged wings the sharp points of which peered over it shoulders.

The twins watched in awe as the two traded blows so rapidly that the optic couldn’t follow them, then suddenly Prowl cried out in pain and stumbled as a second blast of electricity rippled from the creature. As the motorbike staggered to his feet one wing came whipping round and caught him mid chest tearing open a wide gash in his armour and before he could recover two long thin arms reached out and were wrapped tightly around Prowl.

Struggling futile against the grip Prowl shot a desperate glance at the stunned twins and he yelled at them “Fly you fools.” 

The wooden teeth pierced his chest and Prowl screamed in agony arching in his killers grip as his spark was consumed, the twins watched rooted to the spot in horror as the ninja’s paint turned grey and his struggles became weaker and ceased altogether.

It was an instinctive reaction on the twins’ part to charge forwards weapons blazing all out murder in their optics. The creature dropped Prowls sparkless corpse to the sand and meet Sunstreaker’s charge head on, the yellow twins fury driving it backwards, Sideswipe shadowed his brother waiting for his opportunity to strike when he felt a cold hand grip his wrist and slam him into the ground, hard. When his optics rebooted he found himself staring up into the grey impassive face of Prowl, his optics glinting the same coal black and the creature that had killed him, fear, grief and horror gripped his spark as he rolled out of the way of a throwing star and on to his feet.

“Prowl,” Sideswipe pleaded, knowing as he did so it was hopeless, “it’s me Sideswipe a fellow Autobot.”

The dead ninja made no response, not even a flicker of recognition passed over his face as he leapt forward baring the Lamborghini back to the ground, everywhere Prowl touched him Sideswipe felt a burning cold blister his paintwork. A burst of electromagnetic static hit him and he dimly heard his brother cry out in pain and fear. Twisting his head, he saw that the thing had overpowered Sunny and was lowering its fanged moth over his brother’s chest. Struggling with a desperate strength Sideswipe tried to free himself from the corpses burning grip but, even as he did break loose, that burning coldness consumed him and he dropped offline. His last coherent though was that Ratchet would kill him for getting himself killed.

The busy silence of the desert returned as corpse and killer contemplated the two mechs sprawled in the dirt, suddenly the grey body paint flushed with colour and the ridged stance loosened as Prowl stretched. Rough grained splintered wood rippled and became smooth metal plate and coal back optics lightened to blue as Prowler absently flexed his wings a disturbed look on his face.

“Considering how much emphasis my teachers put on not harming an opponent unnecessarily that was worryingly fun.” Prowler told the ninja as he absently bounced on his feet slowly bringing his systems down after the rush of the chase.

“Even the most dedicated student is allowed to fall off the beam occasionally, mark it as something to meditate on later” Prowl said as he concentrated on disconnecting the liquid nitrogen tanks he’d used to freeze Sideswipe offline from his arms. “Are you going to stand there twitching or shall we make a start on phase two?” he asked glancing over at the Datsun.

“Sorry, too much speed makes my system over clock and I need to shed the excess energy.” Prowler replied, beginning to strip off his own nitrogen tanks.

Shortly the tanks and piles of tubing where joined on the desert by various cans, pots, buckets and packets as both mechs emptied their subspace of items more usually found in the twins’ possession.

“Humour me,” Prowl said after a moment studying the labels of several cans.

Prowler looked up from his careful measuring of quantities and raised an optic ridge in invitation.

“String, I am given to understand is not sentient?” Prowl asked 

Prowler nodded.

“Being not sentient it can have no measurable intelligence.” Prowl continued in a contemplative tone.

Prowler sat back on his heels, stared at his companion, and said, “As far as we have been able to ascertain your statement is correct, why?” 

Prowl turned the can round so the label was visible “If string has no intelligence how can it be classified as ‘silly’?”

\----

Prowler was compelled to halt his narration at this point to allow those mechs who’d inhaled Energon into their intakes to recover.

Jazz grinned and told the motorbike “It’s th’ affect it has on tha’ mechs usin’ it.”

“So I was informed.” Prowl replied dryly.

“Let me see if my optics and scanners are in working order,” Prime said, “aside from string, silly or otherwise, you had glue, glitter, a sort of soft coloured clay, some sort of toxic looking but harmless sludge, bungee cords, duct tape and paint. In a variety of optic shattering colours I must add.” 

“Well,” Prowler drawled “we had to do something to cover up the patches where their paint had flaked off, Sunstreaker’s always maintained that going around showing bear metal was the most heinous fashion crime imaginable.”

Prime raised an optic ridge and said deadpan “And a paint scheme of yellow, neon green, acid pink and a blue that practically glows isn’t?”

This prompted more laughter and general speculation about exactly how violently Sunny was going to react when he came back on line, Tracks maintaining that Sunny would want energon for the insult to his artistic sensibilities.

“Did I miss anything?” Prime enquired when the rec room had calmed down.

“The flour and water paste,” Prowl told him “but that’s mostly covered by the duct tape round the legs.”

“And the sand,” Prowler reminded the ninja “although that’s simply a by product of working in the desert.”

Jazz got the distinct feeling that there were things that had been done that the pair were not confessing to, but a sharp glance from Prowler accompanied by the small gesture that meant ‘don’t ask’ made him stay quiet. He was sure he’d learn about it when the time was right.

“I return to my original question,” Prime said, amusement clear in his tone “while one of you does indeed have a jet pack, it would have taken both of you to get a twin, ah,” Prime flailed a hand as he searched for the right word.

“Attached, secured, stuck?” Prowl offered.

“Dangling, securely I hope, from the cargo bay ceiling.” Prime concluded.

“Sideswipe had a jet pack.” Prowler commented “Not very comfortable on the wings I grant, but a good enough fit to do the job.”

Red spluttered “You do realise how many rules you’ve broken don’t you?” 

Prowler didn’t even stop to calculate his response “Three.”

Red stared at him, cycled his optics and was just about to break into a full blown lecture when Jazz began laughing.

“You’re a sneaky, conniving mis-sparked glitch Prowler.” Jazz snorted “Ya deliberately resigned in order to get around the whole rule and regs thing didn’t ya?”

“Guilty as charged.” The Datsun agreed, spreading his hands in mock surrender.

“Well what about him?” Gears demanded stabbing a finger at Prowl.

The ninja glared back down the pointed finger at the mini-bot and replied “I don’t exist in this universe, how can someone who doesn’t exist break any rules?”

Red narrowed his optics in thought, “Very well, if that’s how you want to play it.” He produced two sets of handcuffs, securing the first set around Prowlers wrists he said, “You’re under arrest for trespass, actual bodily harm and theft.”

“Is it technically theft if we left it dangling beside him once we were through?” Prowler asked as he got to his feet.

“Yes.” Red responded curtly as he clapped the second set around Prowls wrists “And you are charged with being a willing accomplice to these crimes.”

A smirk slid across the motorbikes face as he gracefully rose to his feet, “They should be back online by now, and may I suggest you get the jets to cut them down?”

Red simply glared harder at the utterly unrepentant mechs and stabbed a finger in the direction of the door. 

Watching the three of them leave Smokescreen leaned over and whispered in Jazz’s audio “I don’t think we’re done here.”

Casually tipping his head back Jazz breathed “First physically defeat, then humiliate and finally slag up mentally. That’s the order any good interrogator goes by, and Prowlers very good at it.”

The middle Datsun nodded sagely, “I recall that tomorrow the twins have brig guard duty.” An evil, considering smirk crept over his face “feel like swapping monitor duty with Hound and Slingshot?”

\---

Air Raid bit his lip hard as the twins came stomping into the brig, news had spread like bushfire that the supplies of the red and yellow body paint the twins used had mysteriously ‘gone missing’. 

“One word, slagger,” Sunstreaker growled “just one lousy sound and you’ll be spare parts.”

Air Raid nodded, trying to tear his optics from the pink and green patchwork that was Sunstreaker’s face and head. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour and that his shift was over he caught hold of Powerglide and carried the laughing minibot out of the brig. Sideswipe stalked down the rows of cells to the two occupied ones, the motorbike on one side of the corridor and the Datsun on the other. Both were sat on the floor in meditation poses, optics offline, bodies relaxed, utterly oblivious to their surroundings. 

The red twin pulled a large ball of multi-coloured play-doh, the same stuff which until recently had been stuffed into a number of his more delicate movement cogs and gears rendering them useless and filling up gaps in his armour, tearing off a small portion he rolled it into a ball and threw it hard at Prowler. It hit the Datsun squarely between the optics but produced no reaction at all, Sunstreaker tried the same thing with the motorbike on the other side of the corridor, again it produced no reaction both mechs appeared to far gone in mediation trances to notice such things. After a few more attempts with larger lumps and some very derogatory remarks had failed to make any difference the Twins slumped down on the chairs at the guard station, and settled in to plot just how they were going to get even before Prime decided that Prowler had paid his debt and reinstated him. 

“Look at it,” Sunstreaker moaned, flicking a hand down one pink and blue arm “vandalism utter vandalism. Not to mention the worst possible fashion sense in the universe, even Hound looks better than I do and he’s covered in mud! I should go to Prime and Red and press charges of mental torture and inflicting cruel and unusual punishment against these two.”

Sideswipe rolled his optics and kept silent, he’d spent a very long time both in the repair bay and after in their quarters listening to this rant, then suddenly he brought a hand down on his brother’s arm in a signal to be silent. Sunstreaker complied confused, in the silence Sideswipe concentrated on his audios. There it was again, just on the edge of hearing but getting louder with each repetition.

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St Clements,  
I owe you five farthings say the bells of St Martin’s,  
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey,  
When I grow rich say the bells of Shoreditch,  
When will that be? say the bells of Stepney,  
I do not know says the great bell of Bow.” 

Sideswipe shock his head, why the glitch was Prowler singing about talking bells, and glanced across at his twin who was staring down the corridor with an equally puzzled look etched into his face.

“Why,” Sunstreaker began uncertainly “is that motorbike singing about a bridge in London falling down?”

“Huh.” Sideswipe frowned in concentration, he could still hear Prowlers voice repeating the same words “Umm, you don’t hear Prowler going on about talking bells?”

“No.” was Sunstreaker’s response “You don’t hear the ninja?”

Sideswipe mutely shook his head, the twins stood and walked warily down the corridor until they stood outside the cells. Nothing had changed, both mechs were sunk deep in meditation; neither of them appeared to be signing or indeed to notice that the twins were glaring through the bars at them. The song in Sideswipe audios suddenly stopped and he felt his twin’s relief and confusion through their bond, as quietly as possible they crept back to their chairs, keeping both optics suspiciously focused on the cells.

Two breems passed in silence before.

“Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye,” the voices of both mechs echoed down the corridor.

Sunstreaker leapt to his feet and rushed down the corridor Sideswipe trailing behind.

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” The yellow Lamborghini was yelling through the bars at the oblivious and still unmoving Datsun.

Sideswipe clamped a hand on his twins arm and dragged the fuming mech back down to the guard post.

“Calm down,” Sideswipe hissed in to Sunstreaker’s face as he pressed him against the wall “their doing this to wind us up. If we ignore them, they’ll shut up.”

Sunstreaker flung himself down into the chair and sulked, twitching violently every time a new song came up. Two joors later as both twins were twitching to the third rendition of ‘This old man he played one’ Jazz waltzed into the brig carrying four cubes of energon.

“How’s it hangin’?” The saboteur asked cheerfully.

“You hear that,” Sideswipe growled, snatching a cube off the tray “if I have to listen to one more repeat of that or ‘Old MacDonald had a farm’ Prime’s going to be permanently missing his tactician.”

Jazz cocked his head to one side, listening intently before saying rather hesitantly, “I hate to worry ya guys, but I don’t hear any singing.”

Both twins stared at him in disbelief 

“You don’t hear those two spouting nonsense rhymes?” Sunstreaker demanded rising to his feet and stabbing an accusing finger at the cells behind Jazz.

“Nope.” Jazz confirmed “least not from here. I’ll go deliver these and tell ya if I can hear em from down there.”

Walking quietly down the corridor to the cells Jazz concentrated hard on his audios, but he couldn’t hear a note. Pausing outside Prowlers cell he placed a small radio receiver and camera by the control panel, what ever was going down the security cameras weren’t picking it up so he figured that this concealed device might just get lucky.

“Well.” Sideswipe demanded as Jazz came back to the guard post.

“Not a note,” Jazz told him “outa either of ‘em.”

Leaving the stunned twins in his wake Jazz walked out of the brig at a leisurely pace, but once he was out of sight of the twins he bolted for the security room, this he had to see and share with Smokescreen.

Life for the twins however didn’t get any better, after a breem of blessed silence a slightly odd guitar and piano tune floated on the air. To the twins eternal horror the two mech began to sing,

“Many a month has come and gone,  
Since I've wandered from my home,  
In those Oklahoma hills,  
Where I was born”

Sideswipe whimpered and tried to offline his audios as the country song wobbled off key to its ending. Their desperate prayers to Primus for mercy and an end to this torment went unheard as they were treated to ‘The last round up’, ‘Moon over Montana’ and ‘Wreck on the highway’ by the end of this both twins were curled up under the table shuddering. It did seem however that Primus had remembered them because silence fell and lasted for nearly a joor.

Deciding that the two mechs had been silent for too long Sideswipe walked down to the cells, his panicked yell had Sunstreaker racing down the corridor sliding to a stop and staring in disbelief at the now empty cells.

“What the pit?” Sunstreaker demanded of the air “How the unmaker did they get out?”

“Never mind how,” Sideswipe yelled back at him as he took off towards the far end of the brig “help me look for them, Red and Prime will have our afts if we’ve lost them.”

\----

In the security room Jazz and Smokescreen were curled up with laughter watching the twins desperately search high and low for the two mechs who could be clearly seen by Jazz’s stealth camera to be sitting peaceably in their cells.

“Primus,” Smokescreen wheezed “I hope that ninja never gives Hound any ideas on tricks to play with holograms.”

Jazz just nodded, unable to speak

\----  
Having searched every inch of the brig the twins were sat despondently at the guard post, they’d found no trace of their escapees and were trying to figure out how to tell Prime when the sound of a harmonica filled the silence. The twins snapped there heads up and had to cycle their optics, floating in mid air still in meditation poses were the missing convicts. The twins could only watch in stupefied silence as Prowl and Prowler floated around each other, dipping and rising in a complex dance like pattern to the music never moving from the cross legged position.

Sunstreaker made a whimpering noise and for the first time it appeared that the pair became aware of their surroundings, optics powering up they unfolded their legs and stood side by side. Before either twin could pull together enough processor power to say anything a fast lively violin tune struck up both Prowl’s crossed their arms in front of the chests and began to dance what after a few stunned minuets Sideswipe overstressed CPU told him was the sailor’s hornpipe. Back and forth they went gradually getting faster as the tempo of the music increased, eventually the dance ended with the two back to back looking at the stunned twins with perfectly expressionless faces, almost as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Sideswipe felt his spark sink into the earth’s core when another dance tune struck up and Prowl stood back to allow Prowler to sink into a bent knee crouch with his arms still folded and back straight. At some signal Prowl began to kick each leg out in a dance that got more energetic and acrobatic as it progressed.

“Hi guys.” Bluestreak’s cheerful voice pulled the twins attention away from the spectacle “time for shift change. Had any trouble?”

Sunstreaker grabbed Blue’s arm and dragged him so he could see clearly down the corridor “What does that look like?” he hissed pointing a trembling finger at the dancing Datsun.

“Umm an empty corridor?” Bluestreak ventured.

Both twins looked and saw that indeed the corridor was empty even though the music still rang in their audios.

“You don’t hear anything?” Sideswipe asked Blaster.

“Nothing but you.” The communications officer replied “What up?”

“You don’t hear music, or see anything?” Sunstreaker questioned wanting to make sure.

Both Blue and Blaster shook their heads, exchanging worried glances. The twins were obviously wound up about something.

“I’ll check with Jazz and Smokey.” Blaster said “Blaster to Jazz.”

There was a muffled snort and then Jazz’s strained voice issued from the wall unit “Blaster ma mech, what can I do for ya?”

Blaster gave the unit a ‘What the pit’ look before asking “Did you see anything odd going on down here?”

Blaster swore he heard Smokescreen shrieking with laughter in the background before Jazz’s voiced wobbled “N …n … no, nothing at all.”

Deciding that madness was catching Blaster muttered “thanks.” Before terminating the connection, he looked at the twins sympathetically “Why don’t you two go get some energon and recharge.”

“Yeah,” Sideswipe said “but first I think I’m going to see Ratchet.” 

He spun on his heel and all but ran out of the brig followed closely followed by his brother; Blue looked from the fleeing Lamborghini’s to Blaster and shrugged. Blaster shook his head and settled down in the chair Sideswipe had vacated.

\----

Jazz, Smokescreen, Ratchet, Ironhide and the Twins were sat at a table in the rec room the next day when Prowl and Prowler walked in, Prime had decided that a day and a half in the brig was punishment enough and had reinstated Prowler to his rank and job. The twins had their backs to the door and when Jazz called out to the two to join them Sunstreaker’s optics went wide in horror and Sideswipe choked on his energon before both of them fled the room as if unmaker himself was on their heels. 

Ironhide stared after the retreating twins and then back at Prowl and Prowler as they sat down, turning to make a comment he was brought up short by the sight of Jazz and Smokescreen collapsed against each other laughing and Ratchet glaring at the two additions.

“Would you care to make a full confession now?” Ratchet demanded fixing Prowler with his best glare.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Ratchet.” came the Datsun’s unruffled reply.

The medic pulled out four small round metallic objects from his subspace and laid them on the table. Ironhide recognised them as special ops receivers worn inside the audios they worked on a randomly assigned frequency high above normal comms, they were almost impossible to detect or jam and there output virtually undistinguishable from real conversation.

Prowl examined the devices before answering “Why make a confession when the evidence is so damming?”

Ratchet snorted and leaned over the table to whisper “I want a full recording of just what you did to them in return for my silence.”

Prowl extended his hand and sealed the deal before whispering back at the medic “I’ll upload the music files for you, they should prove the perfect way to frighten off the twins for quiet a while.”

Ratchets smile reminded Ironhide of a hunting crocodile, and he made a note to lay his hands on the recording as soon as he possible could.


End file.
